


Setting The World On Fire

by dumbacapellapotatoes (Bechloetrash)



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Drunk idiots in love, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7771651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bechloetrash/pseuds/dumbacapellapotatoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca suddenly feels like she has the words ‘I’m in love with my best friend’ scribbled across her forehead in big, bold letters. Like a bright, glaring, neon sign for the world to see. For Chloe to see. [One-shot. Stands alone.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Setting The World On Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Tittle inspired by the song 'Setting The World On Fire' by Kenny Chesney ft. P!nk.
> 
> Can be read as a prequel of sorts to All In but it still stands alone. One-Shot. 
> 
> Beta'd as usual by my lovely girlfriend, thank you sweetheart! <3

Beca’s had one of _those days_. Where time seems to drag on and no matter what you do, time just won’t move. It’s a slow day at the office and she’s been wondering for the last two hours why she came in, in the first place. She could’ve happily worked from home today. But the clock finally strikes six and she’s out of the studio before anyone can think about stopping her.

She calls Chloe on the way home, hoping her roommate doesn’t have plans for the evening.

“ _Hey stranger.”_ Chloe’s chipper greeting filters through the car’s speakers.   

It somehow manages to dissipate some of the heavy feeling that settled in Beca’s chest sometime around noon. “Hey nerd, did you eat? I’m popping by Remy’s.”

“ _No, I only got home an hour ago. I’m starving!”_

Beca chuckles. It wouldn’t be the first time Chloe forgot to eat dinner. “I’m calling in an order. Our usual?”

 " _Yes please! Ooh, extra side of onion rings.”_

“Got it, I’ll see you soon.” 

 _“Drive safe, bye.”_  

“Bye.”  

 

* * *

 

“Okay here we go. Double cheese burger, extra pickles, no tomatoes, potato wedges, extra side of onion rings and a strawberry milkshake for the lady with the bottomless stomach.” Beca says as she sets out their take-out containers on the seldom used dining table. An indignant huff meets her ears and Beca fights the smile that threatens to spread across her face.

Chloe is so easy to get a rise out of sometimes.

“Like you’re not about to scarf down an ungodly amount of food too.”

“Whatever.” Beca nods toward the couch, her own milkshake in hand.

They settle in and tuck into their food in companionable near-silence, the TV offering nice background noise.

“What’re we watching?” Beca asks around a mouthful of fries.

“Chopped marathon staring in a few minutes. Figured you wouldn’t wanna miss it.”

“Thanks, Red.”

At some point between eating, shouting at the TV and Chloe somehow convincing Beca to trade milkshakes, Chloe’s ended up on Beca’s lap. This happens a lot with them she’s noticed. They’re always touching one way or another. Be it a calming hand rubbing circles on her back, fingers playing with her hair or tracing the headphones tattooed on her wrist, like now, or an arm linked with hers walking down the street.

“You know, there’s plenty of space on the rest of the couch for you to sit on.”

“You’re comfier,” Chloe burrows deeper into her lap as if to drive her point home, nuzzling into the spot where neck meets shoulder.

Beca smiles, safe in the knowledge Chloe can’t see her from where she’s breathing steady puffs into her skin. Warmth inevitably envelops her at those words and she tightens her arm around Chloe’s shoulders. She can tell Chloe’s past the point of caring about the show; the way her fingers keep wandering up Beca’s arm to the line of script tattooed there is a dead giveaway.  

“What are you doing nerd?” Beca asks looking down at her friend.

“You have pretty ink. You should get more,” Chloe sleepily replies.

“You falling asleep on me?”

“Mmm, little bit.”

“Okay this is pathetic it’s not even eight. We’re breaking out the wine, come on get up.” She bounces her leg a little to get Chloe to sit up.  

“Yeah wine’s gonna wake me up,” Chloe says through a yawn.

“No, but moving is. You gotta help me pop the cork.” Beca pats Chloe’s knee and stands heading towards the kitchen. “Come on, Beale. Get your pretty, little butt off the couch.” 

They move around the kitchen with an ease born of so many years living—and leading—together. It’s domestic, Beca realizes, and then wonders when the hell that happened.

When did their Friday nights go from a night at a bar or a club to… staying in and watching TV? 

But as she watches Chloe finally uncork the bottle with a triumphant little grin Beca finds she doesn’t really mind. She accepts the glass of red Chloe hands over with a grin of her own and lets herself be led back into the living room, Chloe’s fingers laced with hers.

“Let’s dance,” Chloe says.

“Dance?”

“Mjm, we’re going to drink this wine and dance around the living room and have a good time.”

“There’s no music.”

Chloe brings the glass up to her lips and takes a slow sip before placing it on the coffee table. Then she’s across the room fiddling with the sound system until music surrounds them.

“There, music. Now dance with me.”

“You’re such a weirdo,” Beca drains half of her wine glass and sets it next to Chloe’s before letting her hands fall along her friend’s hips. There’s a respectable amount of space between them but Beca knows it won’t last long. Chloe loops her arms around her neck, soft fingertips playing with the hairs at the nape of Beca’s neck making her shiver.

“But you love me.”

 _I really do._ Beca suddenly feels like she has the words ‘I’m in love with my best friend’ scribbled across her forehead in big, bold letters. Like a bright, glaring, neon sign for the world to see. For _Chloe_ to see. The way she meets Beca’s gaze and holds it sends Beca’s heart hammering against her ribcage and makes her think maybe Chloe knows. But instead of opening her mouth and saying something, _anything_ she clears her throat and steps back. “Um, we— _I_ need more wine.”

“Okay,” Chloe giggles softly, letting Beca go.

Beca drains the last of her wine quickly as she escapes into the kitchen to refill her glass. She takes advantage of the momentary solitude to collect her thoughts. _What the hell was that, dude? Chill._

It’s not like they’ve never danced before; through hood night parties, club outings, holidays and Bellas routines they’ve done just about every kind of dancing there is. Despite that knowledge Beca can’t help her nerves.     

She pours a generous amount of alcohol into her glass and upon second thought brings the bottle with her. She’s relieved to note one of her more upbeat mixes is playing. The living room’s been turned into a makeshift dance floor, the coffee table’s pushed to the side out of the way and the couch against the far wall.

“Dude, you’ve essentially barricaded us. If there’s a fire we’re gonna die.”

“Way to take the fun out of things, Bec.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

 

* * *

 

It’s not until hours later that Beca collapses in an exhausted, giggling heap on the couch. Aided in part by the alcohol and—if she’s being completely honest—the undiluted joy only Chloe seems to be able to stir up in her. She observes Chloe dance and sing around the room, off beat and off pitch; it brings a smile to Beca’s face that she hopes against all hope doesn’t make her look as love-struck as she feels. They’re not drunk, _they’re not,_ but the few glasses of wine have done their part in lowering Beca’s usually high walls. Not that they’re ever that high around Chloe anyway. She indulges in the view until the redhead flops down next to her, head in Beca’s lap and a wide, happy smile on her face.

“Thanks for this, Red. I needed it,” Beca says but pointedly avoids eye contact.  

“I know.”   

Beca sends her fingers into Chloe’s hair, brushing it back from her forehead. “Turn the TV back up, I can’t hear from here. Why’d you move the couch so far away?”

“Wine makes you whiny,” Chloe groans as she sits up, rooting around the cushions for the remote.

“It does not.”

“Yeah, okay.” Chloe burrows into Beca’s side, sliding an arm around her waist, after turning the volume up, and sighs. Like this is her favorite place to be.

It’s certainly _Beca’s_ favorite place for her to be. She lets her arm drape across Chloe’s shoulders and her fingers softly, unconsciously, caress her upper arm.

Chloe scoots a little closer, a little deeper into Beca’s embrace and Beca chances a glance down at her. The hint of a smile, the way her eyes are just barely glossed over from the alcohol and her still slightly flushed cheeks and mussed hair. Beca doesn’t think she’s ever looked more beautiful.

Chloe must have felt eyes on her because she looks up and meets Beca’s gaze. Calm. Steady. “What?” She asks.

Beca takes a deep breath, feels it rattling around her chest. This would be the moment where she looks away, blushes at being caught staring, maybe tries to deflect with humor. But she can’t now, for the life of her, look away. It’s like she’s tethered to the blue of Chloe’s eyes and her perfect, full lips; a string tied around her heart that’s getting shorter and shorter pulling her forward without her consent or control. “Don’t, like, hate me,” Beca whispers. 

Beca leans down, as her other hand comes up to grasp Chloe’s chin; she hesitates just shy of pressing her lips to Chloe’s. Long enough to give her a chance to move away; but she doesn’t. Instead Chloe’s eyes flutter closed; hand gripping the edge of Beca’s shirt and it’s all the permission Beca needs before she closes the gap between them. Her hand slides up to cup Chloe’s jaw, thumb stroking over the apple of her cheek.

Everything seems to slow down in the few seconds it takes Chloe to kiss back; they might be the longest seconds of Beca’s life.

But then Chloe’s leaning in, pressing closer, smiling into the kiss and Beca feels like she can breathe again. Smiling’s good right?

“What are you doing, nerd? I’m trying to kiss you here.”  

“I know,” Chloe giggles, right up against Beca’s lips.

They’re still close enough Beca can feel every brush of Chloe’s lips against her own; every word, every breath and _God_ this is an entirely new feeling. “Then stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry!” Chloe says, but seems unable to stop giggling. She pulls back, one hand over her mouth in an obvious attempt to stifle her laughter. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you for a really long time.”

Beca huffs. “Then why are you laughing?”

“Because I can’t believe this is happening. And I sort of can’t believe you made the first move.”

“Shut up,” she mutters, eyes slipping closed in bashfulness. There’s a blush rapidly spreading across her cheeks and the knowledge of it only makes it deepen.  

“Hey, look at me.”

Beca shakes her head, squeezing her eyes closed tighter. She feels movement against her and then, Chloe’s weight settling on her lap.

Hands come up to frame her face firmly, tilting her up. Soft kisses follow a second later on her eyelids and the tip of her nose.

It tugs Beca’s lips up into a hesitant grin and she finally gives in and meets Chloe’s eyes. The mirth has been replaced with a special kind of softness she’s been on the receiving end of more times than she cares to admit through the years. And every time it’s like they’re the only ones that matter, no matter how crowded the room is.  

“It’s okay Bec, it’s just me,” Chloe says dropping her hands to Beca’s shoulders.  

“That’s just it Chloe, it’s never _just_ you. You’re… _Chloe Beale._ ” She sighs, dropping her head to the back of the couch to stare at the ceiling. “You’re… sunshine and giggles and everything that’s good and pure in this world. And I don’t know what I ever did to be lucky enough to have you in my life.” Somewhere in the back of her alcohol addled brain Beca _knows_ she should stop talking, but the words keep coming regardless.   

“You are light, Chloe. And warmth and _home._ ” Beca frowns as the realization hits her smack in the face for the first time. Her hands squeeze Chloe’s hips—where they had naturally fallen when the redhead straddled Beca’s lap—reflexively. “And I’m-”

“Beca?” Chloe interjects.

Beca looks up, question at the tip of her tongue, but she stops short at the look in Chloe’s eyes. 

“Stop talking.”

Next thing Beca knows Chloe’s lips come down on hers; there’s nothing slow or hesitant about _this_ kiss though. Hands slide into her hair as a warm tongue seeks entrance into her mouth. Beca thinks she maybe growls a little when Chloe’s tongue tangles with hers, doing absolutely _filthy_ things because Chloe smirks against her lips and that’s just not acceptable.

She lets a hand trail up Chloe’s back to guide her into another, equally passionate, kiss with a hand at the back of her neck. Emboldened by the alcohol and Chloe’s wandering lips leaving a wet, hot trail down her neck now, Beca wraps her arm around Chloe’s waist bringing her that much closer; Chloe it seems, takes it as an invitation to grind down on Beca’s lap.

“Shit, Chloe,” Beca gasps. 

Chloe pulls back releasing the skin of Beca’s neck with a pop before resting her forehead against Beca’s, harsh breaths mingling between them.  

“What are we doing?”

“Making out,” Chloe whispers, a teasing smile curling at the edges of her mouth.

Beca stares into lust-darkened blue eyes searchingly as her resolve to not let them get carried away on what could very well be nothing more than an alcohol-fueled tryst quickly crumbles. “Fuck it.”

Whatever questions, whatever conversations were to be had, could wait until sunrise.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Beca becomes aware of the next morning is the sunlight streaming in through the open blinds she hadn’t bothered to close the night before. As her consciousness slowly returns to her however, several things become quickly apparent. First of all she is very much naked under the sheets and an equally naked body is wrapped around hers —if the heavy arm that drapes across her waist and the familiar warmth at her back are any indication.

With a noisy stretch—and feeling the pleasant soreness in her muscles that’s yet another reminder of the previous night’s activities—Beca rolls over to be met with a mess of auburn hair. She slowly reaches out to run her fingers over the ridges of Chloe’s back reveling in the feeling of warm, smooth skin under her fingertips.

Content to just watch Chloe sleep, Beca lets the memories from the night before wash over her.

 

_Fingers tangling in tresses, pulling…_

_Breathy whispers and whimpered moans…_

_Lips wandering over sweat slicked skin…_

_Backs arching in pleasure…_

_Nails digging into shoulder blades, scratching…_

 

“What have you done to me, Beale?” Beca whispers not really expecting an answer.

Except Chloe’s arm tightens around her enough to let her know she’s been heard.

Chloe sluggishly turns to face her, a bright blue eye peeking at Beca through a curtain of red hair. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Beca tentatively reaches out to tuck a wayward lock of hair behind Chloe’s ear, letting her hand linger against her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Chloe answers.

Beca chuckles rolling onto her back again as Chloe snuggles into her chest, tucking her head under Beca’s chin to drop a light kiss against her collarbone. She wraps her arms around Chloe, pulling her infinitesimally closer.

Silence falls over them as the morning sun rises higher in the sky.

“Chloe… about last night-”  

“I don’t regret it. I know I was a little tipsy but I don’t have any regrets,” Chloe says, looking up at Beca through her eyelashes.

Beca shifts so she can look into Chloe’s impossibly blue eyes. She doesn’t resist the urge to lean down and kiss her; softly, quickly. “Good, because I don’t either. I want more, I want everything with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I just want you Chloe Beale.” 

Chloe smiles, positively _beams,_ and Beca feels herself fall a little more in love right then and there.

“I’ve been waiting a really long time to hear you say that.”

“Sorry I made you wait so long, sweetheart.”

Chloe buries her face in her neck again, sniffling a little, “sweet talker.”

A laugh rumbles up in Beca’s chest and she tightens her hold on the redhead, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You’ve got no idea, Red. Wanna find out?”   

 


End file.
